The Many Lives of June Crandall

by Suzanne Whitfield Vince

  "He told me that if having the baby was what I wanted, he would be there for me. He became the doting father he'd been when my mother was alive, but even more protective. He took me shopping for maternity clothes and bragged to everyone who would listen that he was going to be a grandfather. He bought everything that you could ever want or need, and he built your nursery. I think he was almost as excited for your arrival as I was."

  Grace nodded. She poured them both more tea and asked the question she'd wanted to ask all night. "Mom, you said that they told you I had died. Who told you that?"

  "The doctor."

  "Just the doctor? Was anyone else there?"

  "Well, yes. My father was in the room. So were my grandfather and Bernie."

  "Do you remember the name of the doctor?"

  "I will never forget a single detail of that day. It was the worst day of my life. His name was Dr. McIntyre. He was my mother's doctor. He delivered me when I was born. But I don't believe he would do something like this."

  "Well, clearly someone did. Maybe it was someone else at the hospital. What happened right after I was born?"

  "You weren't born in a hospital, you were born at home. Maybe it would help if I told you about the day you were born."

  Grace nodded, and June began.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  1978

  June awoke in a pool of water with a sharp, stabbing pain in her belly. Terrified by the severity of pain, she screamed for help.

  Her father and grandfather came running in at the same time. "You stay with her," Edward said to his father. "I'll call Dr. McIntyre."

  Benjamin ran to his granddaughter's bedside.

  "Grandfather, I...want...Bernie," she said between pains.

  It was Sunday, Bernie's day off, but when Edward returned after calling the doctor, Benjamin went to ask one of the staff members to call her. June writhed in pain as the contractions came more and more frequently. She'd been told it would be hard, and she''d read all the books, but no one had prepared her for this. Every contraction felt like it was ripping her in half.

  She had discussed an epidural with the doctor and they both agreed that it would be a good idea for her. She prayed he would arrive soon and put her out of her misery. Her grandfather helped her out of bed while one of the housekeepers changed the wet linens and she found that sitting up helped ease the pain a little.

  She changed into a clean nightgown and crawled back into bed, grabbing her teddy bear, Sir Snuggles, for comfort. The pains had slowed down some, but were back now with a vengeance. She turned from one side to the other, trying to get comfortable.

  She lay on her side and reached for her father's hand. "Please, Daddy, make it stop."

  "For Christ's sake, Edward, let's get her to the hospital. She needs a doctor, now,"" Benjamin said.

  "No!" June cried through her pain. "No hospitals." She''d never actually been inside a hospital, but she knew her mother had gone there after her accident and had never come home. She never wanted to set foot in one, so when Dr. McIntyre suggested a home delivery, she agreed without hesitation.

  "We've discussed this, Dad." Edward took his daughter's hand in his. ""This is what June wants."

  Benjamin paced the length of the room, scrubbing a hand through his thick, wavy hair as June continued twisting in pain. "Where the hell is that damned doctor anyway?"

  When Dr. McIntyre finally arrived, he informed her that she was too far along to receive an epidural. She cried out in protest and her father did the best he could to comfort her.

  The doctor needed to examine her and asked the men to leave. Dr. McIntyre had brought his nurse along to assist him with the delivery. June remembered her from the office and liked her, and she held June's hand through the examination and the contraction that followed immediately after.

  June's screams filled the room. When the contraction subsided, she lifted her head and asked through clenched teeth, "How much longer?"

  "You're about eight centimeters dilated, dear. I'm afraid we still have a ways to go," Dr. McIntyre said, patting her hand.

  Morning turned into afternoon, and then into evening, as the cycle continued. Bernie had finally arrived and June cried in her arms, begging her to make it stop. Bernie held June and rocked her back and forth, singing gentle French lullabies to her. June actually managed to doze off for a few minutes, and held tight to Bernie when the pains returned. Just before midnight, the doctor announced that it was time to start pushing.

  As bad as the contractions were, the pushing was worse. She begged for something for the pain, and everyone in the room looked on helplessly, willing the baby to come. Bernie had to coax her to push. Her screams echoed through the room and her father walked out, swearing at Guillermo through his own tears.

  Just before midnight, the baby's head started to crown. With the next push, the head emerged and Dr. McIntyre yelled at June to stop pushing.

  "What's the matter?" her grandfather asked.

  "The cord is wrapped around the baby's neck. Please, everyone out of the room."

  June's eyes grew wide and she cried out for Bernie. "Please, I can't do this without you!" Her eyes darted from the doctor to the nurse, who nodded her consent.

  "Okay, June, I need you to push," Dr. McIntyre said.

  June continued to push, and two minutes before midnight the baby finally made its way into the world. But instead of joy, she was filled with terror as she heard the doctor tell the nurse that the baby was not breathing.

  "Call for an ambulance," he ordered Bernie as he cut the cord, wrapped the baby in a blanket, and ran from the room without letting June see her child.

  June cried out and attempted to run after them but a jolt of pain sliced through her and she fell to the ground. After calling for help, Bernie hung up the phone and ran to her, helping her back to bed. She held June as she cried for her baby, and they waited for the ambulance.

  The paramedics arrived fifteen minutes later. As they lifted June into the ambulance, she searched frantically for Dr. McIntyre and her baby.

  "We couldn't wait for the ambulance, sweetheart," her father explained. "I sent the doctor on ahead with the baby. The nurse went with them. They'll meet us at the hospital."

  June clutched her father's hand and laid back on the gurney. At the hospital, they stitched her up and gave her something for the pain, then wheeled her to a room where they waited anxiously for word from the doctor. Edward, Benjamin, and Bernie were sitting by her bedside when the doctor finally arrived.

  Dr. McIntyre met June's gaze and he shook his head. "I'm very sorry, Ms. Crandall. We did everything we could, but your baby did not make it.""

  June wailed and Edward lunged at the doctor and demanded to know what happened. The two men argued and Benjamin ushered them outside. By the time the men returned to the room, June had been sedated and she slept fitfully until morning.

  When she awoke, she asked the nurse to see her baby.

  "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but your baby's already been taken...downstairs,"" the nurse told her. June knew that meant her baby had been taken to the morgue. A fresh wave of grief overcame her and she asked the nurse to leave her alone.

  2004

  "So you never even got to see me, or hold me?" Grace's voice cracked as she spoke.

  June covered her face with her hands and shook her head.

  Grace pulled June close. They cried together. It was a cry that came from the soul. A cry that only the two of them could understand.

  After passing the box of tissues again, Grace shook her head. "So how did I wind up in the orphanage?"

  "I don't know. None of this makes any sense. Maybe we can hire a private detective."

  "We won't need to. I'm an investigative journalist. I've done my fair share of undercover work. And believe me, I'll be on a mission."

  "How handy to have such a talented daughter."

  Grace offered a feeble smile. Whatever had happened at that hospital, they had each other now. N
othing could change that.

  Grace yawned and looked at the clock. It was almost midnight. They had talked for more than five hours, and it had passed like it was five minutes.

  June quickly apologized for talking all night. "I wanted to know all about you and instead we talked about me. Next time I promise to let you do all the talking, but before I let you go, I need to know. Are you happy, my darling?"

  Grace smiled. "Yes, I'm happy. I'm married to a wonderful man. He's smart, funny, and very handsome. Oh, and he cooks." She laughed. It was surprising how easy it was to laugh. "His name is Antonio Ramos."

  "I'm so glad. Antonio sounds wonderful. Do you two have any children?"

  Grace bit her lip and shook her head. Then it struck her. All the reasons why she didn't want children had to do with her belief that her mother never wanted her. But now she knew it wasn't true. Would knowing that change how she felt about becoming a mother? ""Not yet," she said. "What about you, Mom? Are you happy?"

  "Yes, sweetheart, I'm happy. I have great friends and I teach literature at Columbia."

  "Are you married?"

  June shook her head. "No, I never went down that road. I dated a very nice man for a long time, until very recently actually. His name was Paul. He wanted to marry me. He even asked twice, but I'm not the marrying kind."

  Grace's heart clenched as she watched June speak. Her mother's eyes looked sad, vacant almost. She wondered why June had never married. Was it because of her? Because of what had happened? "To tell you the truth, I'm afraid I'm going to wake up tomorrow and this will all have been a dream. I pinched myself before I rang the bell just to make sure I was really awake, that this was really happening, but it is, isn't it?"

  June's smile brightened her face. "Yes, it's real. You're my daughter and I'm your mother, and we have the rest of our lives to get caught up."

  "Do you have plans for tomorrow night? Will you come to dinner? I want you to meet Antonio."

  "I can't think of anything I'd like more."

  "Great. Why don't you come by at six o'clock." Grace wrote down her address.

  "I'll be there with bells on."

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Grace floated down the steps of her mother's apartment, the smile never leaving her face. Antonio would never believe where she'd been. Or who she'd been with.

  Antonio! It was almost midnight, and she couldn't remember what she'd had planned for the evening before her plans--her entire life----had taken an amazing detour. Had she missed dinner with him? Her thoughts were so scrambled that she couldn't remember.

  She yanked her cell phone from her purse and checked for messages. There were none. She breathed a sigh of relief and dialed his number. As she waited for him to answer, her pulse quickened, keeping pace now with her strides.

  "Hi babe," he said. "I'm just finishing up here and then I''m on my way. I should be home in--"

  "No. Stay put. I'm coming by the office. I have some earth-shattering news." She flipped her phone closed and shoved it into her pocket, not giving him a chance to reply.

  Five minutes later, Grace blew into the offices of Free the Innocent, past Valerie, on her way to Antonio's office.

  "Hey!" Valerie called after her.

  Grace turned around, ran back and grabbed Valerie by the hand. "Come with me. You need to hear this." She dragged Valerie into Antonio's office, closed the door and sat down. Then bounced back up.

  She focused her gaze on Antonio, then shifted it to Valerie. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the right words.

  Antonio crossed the small office and put his hands on his wife's shoulders. "Sweetheart, is everything okay?"

  Grace nodded, though the words still didn't come.

  He eased her down into a chair and sat beside her. "Grace, why are you here...in my office, at midnight? Are you sure everything's alright?""

  She nodded again. Suddenly, she noticed the fear in Antonio's eyes, and a similar look of concern on Valerie's face. And she realized what her outburst must look like.

  "I...yes, I'm fine. Better than fine. I'm amazing. The most incredible thing happened to me today at the book signing. You see, there was this woman--she was the last person in line--and I asked her who to make the inscription out to but she didn't answer. Then I looked up at her, and she looked familiar, but I didn't know why. I asked her what her name was, and do you know what she said? She said, 'My name is June Crandall.'"

  Grace pulled away from Antonio and paced the small office. "Then I fainted, and when I came to, I was sitting face to face with her. And it was her, Antonio--the woman from the sketches--it was June Crandall. It was my mother."

  Antonio reached for his wife's hand and gently pulled her back down into the chair. "You're serious, aren't you?"

  She nodded.

  "Your mother? This woman just showed up at your book signing and announced that she is your mother?" Valerie asked.

  "Well, yes. I guess so. She finished reading my book and when she read the name of my birth mother, she knew. You see, Elena Borgese was her mother's name. They told her I died when I was born. She never knew I was alive! I've just spent the entire evening with her. She only lives a mile or so from us. Can you believe it?"

  She looked from Antonio to Valerie. "I know what you're thinking, but she wasn't some crackpot. She was real. She's the woman in the sketches. You'll see for yourself. She's coming to dinner tomorrow night."

  "Okay, honey. You know what? I'm going to wrap up here and go home with you. You can tell me all about her on the way home."

  A few minutes later, they stepped out into the night. Walking home, Grace told Antonio everything she could remember from her conversation with her mother. She could tell he was skeptical, but she knew that as soon as he saw June the following night, all his doubts would fade.

  Antonio found her in the studio the next morning, working on a portrait of her mother. He kissed her neck and she nearly flew off the stool she was sitting on. "It's beautiful," he said.

  "Thank you." She settled back down and dabbed the brush in the black oil paint. "What time is it?""

  "Almost six o'clock. Have you slept at all?"

  "No, and I'm not about to now. There's too much to do. I have to go shopping and clean the place, and you have to cook."" Antonio had become the chef of the house, much to her delight.

  "I have to work today, sweetheart, but I'll tell you what. Why don't you go shower while I run down to Pekarski's market and get some skirt steak. Then try to get a nap. I'll put it in to marinate, and I'll come home early to make everything else. Sound good?"

  "Yes, thank you."

  When Grace finished showering, Antonio was gone and three steaks were marinating in a shallow bowl filled with something that smelled wonderful. She spent the rest of the day cleaning the loft. She scrubbed, vacuumed, dusted, and polished everything in the place until it sparkled, and then carefully arranged the flowers Antonio had bought.

  Satisfied that the place looked as decent as possible, she went back to her painting. Her mother would be arriving in two hours and she wanted to be finished with it by then. Antonio came home shortly after she'd begun to paint, and she heard him tinkering in the kitchen.

  She shuffled into the kitchen and gasped when she saw the spread he had put out. He'd made guacamole and salsa, meat and potato empanadas, and was now making refried beans, Spanish rice, and fajita-style vegetables to go with the skirt steak. The only items he'd bought were tortillas and a tres leches cake for dessert.

  Antonio had been teaching her a few of the secret family recipes. She told him to go change and she would try not to burn the rice and beans. As soon as he was out of sight, Grace picked all of the peas out of the rice. She hated peas and could never understand why he put them in there in the first place. When he came back into the kitchen, he saw the peas in the garbage.

  "Grace, did you pick the peas out of the rice again?"

  She looked at him sheepishly and nodded.

 
"What if your mother likes peas?"

  "She's blood, Antonio. Trust me, she does not like peas."

  He rolled his eyes. "What about me, then--don't I count?"

  "Not when it comes to peas. They are the single most disgusting food item on the planet."

  The doorbell rang at precisely six o'clock. Grace raced to the front door. Antonio followed behind her, making the sign of the cross. Grace laughed and pulled the door open.

  She heard her husband inhale loudly behind her, and she knew that he was seeing what she herself had seen the day before. The woman was the real deal. She was June Crandall. Grace's mother.

  June's arms were weighed down with bags and Antonio rushed to help her. He set the bags on the kitchen counter, and turned to get another look at her.

  "It's uncanny, isn't it?" Grace said. ""Mom, this is my husband, Antonio. Antonio, this is my mother, June Crandall."

  June shook Antonio's hand.

  "It's lovely to meet you," June said.

  He couldn't help but stare. "Believe me, the pleasure is all mine. You two look like sisters."

  June pulled a box from Mama C's out of one of the bags and handed it to Grace. "Cannoli. Best in town."

  "Oh my gosh, you know about Mama C's?"

  "It's been my Friday hangout for more years than I care to remember."

  "I just discovered Mama's recently. And, oh my God, their cannoli are the best."

  Antonio hung her coat up. June pulled two bottles of champagne and a bottle each of red and white wine from one of the bags. "I didn't know what you liked."

  "Let's start with champagne," Antonio suggested. "Honey, why don''t you show your mother around while I pour?"

  Grace took June by the hand and gave her a tour of the apartment. They stopped in the art studio and June looked at the drawings covering the walls. Antonio caught up with them and handed them each a glass of champagne.